Chapter 6 - Olivia Chase Starts Asking QuestionsOlivia Chase appeared at my front door the next morning wearing sunglasses, no makeup, and the look of a woman who had not slept.
I saw her through the security camera.
For a moment, I considered not answering.
Then I noticed the folder in her arms.
And the fact that she was alone.
Maya had sent a forensic technician at 3:00 a.m. to collect images of Daniel’s office, document the contents, and secure the hard drive without altering it. By sunrise, my house had become something between a legal war room and a place where two children tried to eat cereal while pretending their father had not become a stranger overnight.
Emily refused school.
Noah refused to let go of the blanket from the couch.
I refused to cry where anyone could see me.
The doorbell rang again.
Maya, who had slept exactly zero hours and still looked terrifyingly competent in a black blazer, glanced at the monitor.
“Do you want me to handle her?”
“No,” I said. “I want to know why she came.”
“Do not let her inside without recording.”
“I won’t.”
I opened the door but left the chain on.
Olivia removed her sunglasses.
Her eyes were swollen.
Good.
Again, not because I wanted her pain.
Because I wanted her awake.
“Rachel,” she said. “I need to talk to you.”
“You did plenty of talking with my husband.”
She took the hit without flinching.
“I deserve that.”
“You deserve worse.”
“I know.”
No denial.
No arrogance.
Interesting.
I waited.
She lifted the folder.
“I didn’t know he was still living with you. I didn’t know about the money. I didn’t know about the insurance policy. And I didn’t know he had my father involved in something at the hospital.”
My hand tightened on the door.
“Your father?”
She swallowed.
“Charles Chase. Chairman of the hospital board.”
Maya stepped into view behind me.
Olivia’s eyes moved to her.
“I’m assuming you’re the attorney.”
“Maya Sterling.”
“I want protection.”
Maya’s expression did not change.
“From whom?”
Olivia looked behind her toward the quiet street.
Then back at us.
“Daniel.”
That was when I opened the door.
Not because I trusted her.
Because fear recognizes fear.
We sat at the kitchen table.
The same kitchen table where I had planned Daniel’s birthday dinners, signed school permission slips, and paid household bills he secretly used as camouflage for theft.
Now his wife, his mistress, and a lawyer sat around it with coffee none of us drank.
Olivia placed the folder between us.
“I met Daniel at a hospital fundraising dinner eighteen months ago,” she said. “He told me his marriage had been dead for years.”
I said nothing.
“He said you were kind but emotionally absent. He said you stayed together for appearances and the children. He said you both had an agreement.”
“Did you ask to see divorce papers?”
She closed her eyes.
“No.”
“At any point did you wonder why his wife still hosted hospital dinners?”
Her face flushed.
“Yes.”
“But you ignored it.”
“Yes.”
The honesty irritated me more than denial might have.
Denial would have been easier to hate.
Olivia opened the folder.
“These are emails Daniel sent me. Some are personal. Some are financial. Some mention my father.”
Maya leaned forward.
“Why bring them here instead of to your own attorney?”
“I did call one. He told me to preserve everything.” Olivia looked at me. “But last night, after the airport, Daniel called me from a number I didn’t recognize. He said if I cared about him, I would delete every message between us.”
I almost smiled.
“Romantic.”
“He said Rachel was trying to ruin his career. He said she was unstable. Then he said…” She stopped.
“What?”
Her voice dropped.
“He said if the Holloway situation became public, my father would make sure I looked responsible too.”
Maya’s gaze sharpened.
“How could you be responsible?”
Olivia pushed one email across the table.
I read it.
Daniel,
Dad says Holloway cannot be delayed again. Make sure the resident understands you are “available” even if you are off-site. We need the case completed before review flags the scheduling pattern.
O.
My eyes lifted slowly.
Olivia was crying now.
“I wrote that because Daniel told me it was a billing review. He said Holloway’s insurance authorization was expiring. He said the resident was fully capable and he would be available by phone.”
Maya took the email carefully.
“This is serious.”
“I know.”
“No,” Maya said. “I don’t think you do. This could suggest pressure to proceed with a procedure under questionable supervision.”
Olivia covered her mouth.
“I didn’t know anyone would die.”
For the first time, I saw her not as the glamorous woman at Gate 42, but as another person Daniel had used.
That did not absolve her.
But it complicated the shape of my anger.
“Why were you going on the trip?” I asked.
She wiped her face.
“Daniel said we needed to get away before things got ugly.”
“With my children?”
She flinched.
“He said they wanted to come. He said they hated the tension at home.”
“There was no tension at home,” I said. “Because I didn’t know there was another woman.”
Olivia looked sick.
“He told me you were cold to them.”
I leaned forward.
“Emily cried in my arms last night because Daniel told her I didn’t want her anymore.”
Olivia went still.
“No.”
“Yes.”
Something broke across her face.
Maybe she had imagined herself stepping into an empty role.
A better partner.
A warmer future.
Maybe she had told herself the wife was already gone emotionally, that the children needed happiness, that love justified the discomfort.
Most affairs survive on stories.
Reality suffocates them.
Olivia whispered, “He told me you were cruel.”
Maya said, “Daniel appears to have told everyone a customized version of Rachel.”
Olivia looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
I stared at her.
The apology stood between us, inadequate and trembling.
“I don’t forgive you,” I said.
“I know.”
“But I’ll use what you brought.”
She nodded.
“That’s why I came.”
Maya spent the next hour scanning emails, photographing metadata, and instructing Olivia not to delete anything. Olivia answered every question. Dates. Locations. Phone numbers. The first kiss. The first hotel. The first time Daniel introduced her to Richard.
That part mattered.
“Richard introduced you to Daniel?” I asked.
Olivia nodded.
“At a private donor dinner. He said Daniel was exactly the kind of physician my father should invest in.”
Invest in.
The word made my skin crawl.
Daniel had not accidentally fallen in love.
He had been positioned.
By his father.
By Olivia’s father.
By a network of men who saw marriage, medicine, money, and women as assets to be arranged.
Near noon, Olivia stood to leave.
At the doorway, she hesitated.
“There’s one more thing.”
Maya looked up.
Olivia opened her handbag and pulled out a small velvet pouch.
Inside was the diamond bracelet from Daniel’s office.
My stomach tightened.
“He gave me one like this,” she said. “But I found the receipt this morning. It wasn’t purchased for me.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
She handed me the receipt.
Same jeweler.
Same price.
Same date.
But the name on the customer order was not Olivia.
It was not Rachel.
It was Grace Holloway.
My hand went cold.
“The dead patient’s wife?” Maya asked.
Olivia nodded shakily.
“Daniel told me Grace was unstable. That she had developed an attachment to him during her husband’s treatment.”
I stared at the bracelet.
Suddenly the affair was no longer a triangle.
It was a pattern.
Daniel did not just seduce women.
He studied their vulnerabilities.
A lonely mistress with a powerful father.
A trusting wife with inherited property.
A grieving patient’s spouse.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Maya nodded for me to answer on speaker.
I did.
A distorted male voice spoke first.
“Mrs. Bennett, stop digging into the Holloway case.”
Maya began recording immediately.
The voice continued.
“You think your husband is the monster. He’s not. He’s the man stupid enough to leave fingerprints.”
My blood turned cold.
“Who is this?” I asked.
A pause.
Then:
“Ask Daniel what happened in Operating Room Three before Thomas Holloway ever arrived.”
The line went dead.
Maya and I stared at each other.
Olivia whispered, “What does that mean?”
May you like
I looked down at the bracelet with Grace Holloway’s name on it.
“I think,” I said, “Daniel wasn’t the only doctor lying.”
